


The World Between Awake And Asleep

by hostilecrayon



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Drama, Gen, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-02-17
Updated: 2011-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-16 23:44:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilecrayon/pseuds/hostilecrayon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title: The World Between Awake And Asleep</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Title: The World Between Awake And Asleep

Title: The World Between Awake And Asleep

Author: hostilecrayon

Warnings: Direct quotes from the end of the manga. AU, in a weird way, lol

Disclaimer: Hikaru no Go was created by Hotta and Obata and distributed by Viz, Shogakuen and Shonen Jump.

Notes: Inspired by the final episode of Roseanne and totally dedicated to Bookshop. This is mostly your fault, you and your amazing Hikago posts, complete with manga scans and all. This is also dedicated to SVZ Insanity for her helpfully being a soundboard… and completely changing the way this fic was going to be written. Also, damn my muse for not letting me end this when I had planned. Damn you muse, damn you!

My computer crashed years ago, and I thought this was lost forever. I think I even cried for this story, as I loved the concept. Upon searching through my sent mail, I found what is at least most of what I had, sent to a friend right before the crash. Let me know what you think...

The World Between Awake And Asleep

"Let's go Shindou.

"This isn't the end – There is no end."

To link the far past and the far future; that's why I am here.

I am… everyone else, too.

"…..Can you hear? Can you hear…

"My voice?"

A cold chill crept over his body, turning his skin to ice. He rolled over, not yet fully awake, and blindly groped for his blanket. When his hand met nothing but sheets, he grudgingly cracked opened his eyes and tugged the window closed.

The air stilled and an eerie silence fell over the room as Shindou Hikaru rubbed his face with the palm of his hands. Something felt… off, but it wasn't until he woke up all the way that he started to notice.

First, he reached for his cell phone to check the time, but it wasn't there. He glanced over, but he couldn't see it anywhere by his bed. He sat up and stretched. He picked his blanket up off the floor and put it back on the mattress, noticing his old alarm clock in the process. He ran his fingers over it, wondering if his mom had pulled it out of his drawer.

Then he noticed something truly strange. His hands… they were so small.

He looked around the room, confused. It was the same room he had grown up in, but it was… different. He could see the subtle changes; his kifu was missing, all of his Weekly Go newspapers, and most discomforting, his Goban.

He went to the door and called down the stairs. "Mom? Where's my stuff?"

"What stuff, dear?" she called back merrily.

"My Go stuff! Did you take it?"

"Go stuff? Hikaru? You play Go?"

"What? Of course I do! Whatever, nevermind." And he slammed the door, leaving his mother thoroughly confused.

He continued looking through his stuff. There wasn't one scrap of kifu, not a solitary page from Weekly Go, not even a hint of a Go stone. There was nothing.

He ran his fingers through his hair and headed for the bathroom. He wondered if he had gotten a haircut, as it was shorter than he remembered.

One glance in the bathroom mirror and he understood.

The face staring back at him wasn't the face of a fifteen year old Go Pro. His eyes were not the sharp intensity of a high level Go player. They were still wide and round, his fingers gripping the sink not yet calloused from constant play.

It had been a dream.

The cold that came over him then had nothing to do with the air.

Hikaru was slipping on his shoes when his mother approached him. "Where are you going so early?"

"The Go Institute." He said quickly, stomping his foot impatiently to force the shoe on.

"The Go Institute? Hikaru, why are you going there?"

"I'm looking for something." It brought back the memory – or was it really a dream? – of looking for Sai, but he pushed back the melancholy feelings and ran out the door.

He could hear his mother calling after him, "Looking for what? Hikaru?"

His feet knew the way by instinct, and the fact that it was actually where he remembered it to be steeled his resolve to ask the questions he knew he needed to ask.

He flew through the doors, looking left and right for any sign of a face he recognized, but there were none.

"Hello, welcome to the Go Institute. Can I help you?" The clerk chirped happily, and Hikaru leaned on the counter, out of breath.

"Can you tell me where I could find Touya Akira?"

The clerk was taken aback. "Touya Akira? Is he a pro?"

"Don't you know him?"

"I'm sorry…"

"What about Touya Kouyou? Ogata Seiji? Waya Yoshitaka? Isumi Shinichirou?"

The startled man shook his head. "I'm sorry, maybe you're in the wrong place? I don't know any of those people…"

Hikaru slammed his fist down on the counter and the clerk jumped, nervously looking to the phone. "Are you alright? Should I call someone..?"

The blond-banged boy shook his head, turning to walk out of the building.

He wasn't yet ready to accept the facts, and so he headed to the one other place he thought he might find what he was looking for – The Touya Go Salon.

But fifteen minutes of running proved that the Go Salon didn't exist. The place that he had spent hours upon hours, the place where he had first learned what it meant to be serious, the place where he met the rival who changed his life so drastically was nothing more than an empty room for rent.

His fingers touched the glass lightly; his eyes disbelieving.

"Touya…"

And he cried.

When his grandfather asked him what he was doing, he just walked past him without replying. He had to see for himself whether it was there nor not. He wouldn't be satisfied until he saw it for himself.

The ancient Goban was there, sitting innocently in the corner, covered with dust. Hikaru wiped it off reverently with his sleeve, the finish of the wood shining in the noon sun leaking through the small window of the attic.

But there was no stain. There was nothing at all to indicate that it was the Goban that had housed Fujiwara no Sai.

"Sai… please…"

But there was nothing.

Several hours later, Hikaru approached his grandfather. "What were you doing up in the attic for so long? You should ask before you just go through people's stuff."

"Let me have that Goban."

"What? It's a priceless antique! Besides," he joked, "they say it's haunted."

"I want it to be haunted!"

His grandfather flinched, surprised by the intensity of the statement. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I'll buy you a Goban if you really want one…"

"Play me then. If I win, you give me the Goban." Hikaru's eyes took on a steely glint, and his grandfather could see the fighting spirit warring inside his grandchild.

He took the challenge.

"I'll warn you though, I'm not going to be easy to beat. I've won more trophies than there are years you've been alive!"

"Yeah, I know. Nigiri."

"What? Did your father tell you? I didn't think he cared…"

"He doesn't." His fingers ran over the stones in his goke, a familiar feeling despite the smooth contour of his fingertips. The first move was concise, the stone skillfully hitting the board with a sharp pa-chi and sliding gracefully into its final resting place.

So he could still play.

His grandfather was completely perplexed when he was forced to resign so early in the game, but he held up his end of the bargain, and Hikaru was given his Goban.

"You play like a genius… how did you learn?"

"…A friend taught me, Grandpa."

He scratched his chin, disbelieving. "That's some friend."

"Yeah, I know. Look, I really have to go now…"

And he walked away, the remains of something that didn't exist held tightly in his hands.

Hikaru sat in seiza, and though he could feel the effects in his legs and feet proving his body was not yet used to this position, he ignored it. He was much too busy placing stones in the familiar shapes of his games. Hour after hour he sat in front of the Goban, replaying the games he'd played with Sai, Touya, Waya, Isumi… every game he could recall.

As he played them out, he carefully recorded each move in his fresh book of kifu, labeling the games by name, match number and his age.

The Fujiwara no Sai and Touya Akira sections dominated the book so badly that he ended up starting over, giving them each their own book.

He didn't understand how he could remember so clearly something that was supposed to be a dream. There wasn't a single moment that he couldn't remember – not a single emotion that felt dull or distant. He could hear Sai's happy voice as he saw a vending machine for the first time. Touya's rare laughter rung clear in his ears. Waya's defiant tone still assaulted him as they argued over whether to eat sushi or ramen.

Everything was so clear, and now, sitting in his room in his twelve year old body, he could see the sharp contrast between his life with Go and his life without.

Was there any certain person that changed his life? He wanted to say it was Sai, but it was Touya who had really made him want to play. Then he wanted to say Touya, but he couldn't deny that his passion for Go was his own. Where had his motivation came from?

Perhaps from the game itself?

But that too, felt wrong.

Dream or not, he couldn't change the way Go affected him. His light-hearted younger self never understood what it was to be serious. He had been reckless and uncaring, and the first-dan he remembered himself to be had purpose. A purpose he had lacked.

One thing was certain. He would not stop playing Go.

"An exam? Hikaru, an exam for what?" His mother just stared at him blankly, not comprehending what her son was telling her.

"I want to play Go, mom. Anyone can take the Pro exam, and I need you to sign the consent form and pay the entrance fee."

"Fee? A Go exam? Hikaru, didn't you only just start playing? You really think you can pass an exam?"

Hikaru's eyes glinted dangerously. "I know I can."

Hikaru's mother rung her hands. "I, well… I don't understand. What is this exam for?"

The slim boy rolled his eyes. "When I pass, I'll be a professional Go player." When his mother just kept staring, he elaborated. "I'll make money playing Go."

"But why would you need to? You're only twelve!"

"It's what I want to do. Will you pay the fee or won't you, mom?"

She looked at him helplessly. "I… yes. But just don't get your hopes up too high… I mean, you did only just start playing…"

The day of his first match of the preliminaries for the Pro Exam dawned early, and Hikaru could barely contain his excitement. On the way to the train station, he picked up a copy of Weekly Go for his growing collection. He'd constantly scanned it for any possibility that he might recognize a name or a style of play, but so far, it had yielded no results. He wondered if he'd see anyone he knew at the preliminaries.

When he arrived, he didn't see any faces he knew. He hid his disappointment well and greeted his opponent as cheerfully as he could.

Sereki was older, and sat with an air of confidence. "Hello, Shindou-san. Are you an insei?"

"No, actually."

His opponent grinned then, and Hikaru could tell his opponent thought he had an easy win.

Thirty hands later, the baffled man admitted defeat.

And so it went; Hikaru would replay his old games in the evenings and destroy his opponents during the day. As the end of the pro exams drew near, the Fujiwara no Sai and Touya Akira kifu books became increasing frayed from use.

Months passed, and Hikaru found himself at the First Dan Series with a perfect exam record

It was practically unheard of for a twelve year old to pass the exam, but to pass at twelve with no losses was phenomenal in the Go world. He was interviewed, counter-interviewed and approached by so many Pros that it made him dizzy, and though his claim to having learned Go from a friend that he refused to reveal was a disappointing answer, it only added to the mystery and intrigue that was Shindou Hikaru.

There was a large crowd of Pros gathered to see the results of his first match.

The man he was playing – Kenko Juudan – was talking quietly as the pictures were being taken. "It's wonderful to see such young Pros entering the world, and with such an impressive record, too! It looks like I'll have to go all out on you if I want to save my reputation."

The Juudan laughed, but Hikaru merely said, "Please do."

Kenko Juudan fell silent at that.

The battle was long and difficult, but in the end, Hikaru was a step behind. "I resign. Thank you for the game."

"Thank you for the game." They got up to walk to the discussion room when Kenko Juudan said, "You know, I thought you were just being cocky, but you play a solid game. Were you measuring your strength?"

Shindou nodded. "No matter the difference in strength, a player cannot be truly measured unless both sides play to their full potential. I apologize if I offended you."

To his surprise, the Juudan laughed. "I like you, kid. You have real spunk. I look forward to watching your progress. I'm sure it won't be long before you're after my title! I'd better watch out."

Shindou's eyes grew distant; a memory of a time when his only goal in the Go world had been measuring up to the person he wished to call his rival invading his thoughts.

"Isn't having a good rival a wonderful thing?"

"Then the God of Go must be quite lonely."

He didn't just want titles. He wanted his rival back.

Despite maintaining his perfect record in his matches, he could feel the loneliness in his Go. It was rigid and predictable. Though he became stronger, his Go didn't have that flair that it had at night when he replayed his games with Touya.

He thought perhaps he should just give it time, but one year turned to two, and there was no one who could bring the spark back to Shindou Hikaru 3-dan's Go.

On his fifteenth birthday, he seriously considered quitting Go. He could feel his love for the game coursing through him, but it was becoming more and more clear with each passing match that whether he won or lost, his love was unfulfilled. He continuously won to the lower level pros, and he periodically lost to some of the higher ones, but it didn't seem to matter.

He was reminded of the rumors that went around about Touya as he was entering the Go world, and he found that some of the same rumors started to go around about him. The Pros were all still interested in him, but slowly but surely, the other Pros were noticing his aloof attitude towards his Go and the players around him. They said he would burn out and that he was arrogant and uncaring.

This didn't bother Hikaru. After all, these people couldn't ignite his Go.

He wondered if there could ever be anyone who set fire to his Go like Touya Akira could.

It was after a match one day that Hikaru finally had a spark of hope.

Hikaru was replacing his shoes and shouldering his bag when what he heard almost made him fall.

"My father actually managed to be the highest bidder on the Touya bank. Can you believe it? We went to their house, and man, is that family loaded! The man has some pretty old fashioned taste, though. I mean, the guy even wears traditional clothing! Who does that anymore? And the kid? I think his mother dresses him…"

Hikaru ran across the hall, accosting the surprised 2-dan in front of him. He could hear the firm reprimand issued from the clerk, "Shoes, young man!" but he ignored it.

"Did you say Touya?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Touya Kouyou?"

The 2-dan stared at Hikaru strangely. "I think that was the old man's name… why, do you know them or something?"

"The son… his name is Touya Akira, right?"

"I, well, I guess so… I mostly only noticed his horrible fashion sense…"

"Tell me where! Where do they live?"

"I don't know, do you even know them?"

"Shoes, young man!"

"PLEASE! TELL ME!"

"Geeze, you don't have to sound so desperate."

Hikaru didn't care that everyone was staring at him. He didn't care that the rumors would circulate like mad, and he sure as hell didn't care that he was scaring the hell out of the 2-dan in front of him.

All he cared about was the address in his hand.

He didn't know if his dream was a parallel universe, reincarnation or even some strange form of premonition, but he prayed to every God he had ever heard of, his most fervent prayers going to the God of Go, that it wasn't just a dream.

The house was large, and it was comforting to find that it looked very similar to the house the Touya's had in his dream. But he wasted little time admiring it in favor of nervously pressing the bell.

Could this really be his rival at last?

The door opened slowly, and Hikaru nearly fainted as a boy with shoulder length raven hair and a firmly defined face opened the door. The boy's blue-green eyes narrowed slightly and the voice from Hikaru's dreams greeted him. "Hello."

Hikaru just gaped stupidly. It really was Touya Akira.

Awkward silence rolled by and Touya fidgeted in the doorway, tentatively continuing when it was clear the boy on his doorstep wasn't going to speak. "I'm sorry, but if you're looking for my father, he's out of town for a few days. I can take a message if you'd like..."

It snapped Hikaru out of his daze and he said in a revered tone, "Touya, it's you! I thought I'd never… I mean, I don't really understand it but…"

Touya blinked, uncomprehending. "Do I know you?"

"Yes! I mean no… no, I suppose you don't. I'm Shindou Hikaru."

There was a brief flash of recognition in his eyes. "Shindou Hikaru 3-dan? My father is a fan of yours."

"So he plays Go then?" Hikaru's words were rushed, as if at any moment, Touya might vanish.

"Well, he started playing late in life, and he really only follows it in Weekly Go anymore."

"Touya Kouyou, an occasional player? That's… not what I expected. He's never played professionally?"

"My father?" Touya said, perplexed. "He was the CEO of a bank. He definitely has never played Go for money."

"But you, you play Go, right?"

"Me?" Touya's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Not at all. I've never even tried it, to be honest with you."

It was Hikaru's turn to be surprised. "You? Never played before? You have to be joking! There's just no way…"

Touya's face scrunched up in confusion. "I'm sorry, but perhaps you've mistaken me for someone else?"

"There's no mistaking you, Touya Akira." His raven-haired rival of his dreams flushed slightly, though from the intensity of his words or the passion in his eyes, Hikaru didn't know. "Play a game with me."

"Play with you? You can't be serious."

"I've never been more serious. Your father is an occasional player, right? You must have a Goban here somewhere."

Touya's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe it's any of your business what my father keeps in his house."

"I'm not leaving until you play a game with me."

"Then let the cops drag you away!"

And he slammed the door in Hikaru's face.

Akira was not entirely sure why he had let the stranger upset him so much. He was usually such a calm person, and it generally took a lot to even evoke outward displays of irritation, let alone anger. But something about the kid on his doorstep had shaken him to his very core.

And why was he going on about playing Go with him? For what possible reason could a Pro have for tracking down someone who had never played before and demand such a thing?

The boy had sat out there until well after dark, too. He certainly was persistent. What was worse, he looked familiar somehow. It was a fuzzy feeling, almost as if he had dreamed it, but he couldn't be sure. That, more than anything, confused him.

It was nearly midnight before he opened the door again to make sure the kid had really left. There was a paper sticking out from under the flower pot that hadn't been there before.

It read simply, "This isn't the end – There is no end."

Though he probably should have reported the incident to the police, the words felt sharply familiar, as if he were forgetting something important. Instead, he pocketed the note and went back inside.

The sudden desire for the feel of a Go stone against his fingertips was blatantly ignored.

Hikaru's encounter with Touya had been, to say the least, interesting. A Touya who didn't play go; if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed it. He wasn't sure he believed it now.

There was one thing he was sure of though; if this Touya was anything like the one he knew in his dream, this was far from the last time he'd see Touya Akira.

It did get him thinking, though.

If Touya Akira existed in this world, what was stopping the others from existing as well?

Sai came unbidden to his mind, but as he had no way of knowing how to find him, his thoughts turned to more likely candidates.

He began with Waya Yoshitaka.

He found Waya working part time as a waiter at a local sushi restaurant. He couldn't help but laugh at that.

Hikaru settled into a seat in the back of Sumo Sushi as directed by the door greeter and waited. He wasn't sure how he would go about getting Waya's attention beyond the menu, but he had a feeling he'd figure something out.

Waya approached his table rigidly, uncomfortable in his own environment. It was a side of Waya that Hikaru had rarely seen, and he wondered if his parents had forced him into working. If he'd thought even for a moment that his dream friends were happy in this world, the sight of this stiff Waya would have killed that notion.

"Good afternoon and welcome to Sumo Sushi. I'm Waya, and I'll be your server today. Are you ready to order or do you need more time with the menu? Perhaps you'd like to start with a drink?"

Hikaru smirked. "Do you have any ramen?"

The corner of Waya's eye twitched. "No sir. This is a sushi restaurant."

So Waya wasn't a ramen fan in the real world, either. "I know, but ramen is so delicious. I thought maybe…"

Waya grit his teeth, forcing a smile. "Well, we're a very selective restaurant, and ramen didn't make the cut. I'm very sorry, but would you care to order something else?" He was practically growling.

Hikaru smiled sweetly. "Two orders of Hamachi and a coke, please." As Waya stiffly walked away, Hikaru pulled his folding Goban from his backpack and set it up on the table before him. If Waya's preferences were the same in this world, then maybe, so was his Go.

Or was he hoping that someone else's Go would be the same?

Touya Kouyou and his wife, Akiko, arrived home much later than expected. Sure that their son was in bed, they entered the house on silent feet, Akiko heading to prepare the bedding and Kouyou looking to the kitchen for some tea before he retired. The light in the den made him pause, though.

His son was engrossed in an issue of Weekly Go, not even noticing his father's presence in the doorway.

"Akira?"

Startled, he looked up, politely greeting his father.

"What are you still doing up?"

"I guess I must have lost track of the time." His eyes strayed back to the open page, and from his uncomfortable shifting, Touya Kouyou surmised that his son hadn't moved in quite a while.

"It's well after midnight, Akira. What is it that has made you lose that much time?"

The words came out as little more than a whisper. "Shindou Hikaru, 3-dan."

Kouyou raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I didn't know you'd started following a player."

Akira's eyes widened. "I didn't! It's just… he came by our house a few days ago."

"What did he want?"

"Well, I thought he wanted to see you. But then, he acted a little strange… Father, he challenged me to a game of Go – no, he demanded it of me!"

"Did you play with him?" Kouyou replied calmly, assessing the situation.

Akira shook his head. "No. I told him to leave. He eventually did, after staking out our porch for hours."

Touya Kouyou was no fool. He knew that there was more to it than that, but it seemed Akira was not yet ready to face the missing pieces in his story. Instead of inquiring further into the incident, he questioned, "Why didn't you?"

It was ever so slight, but Kouyou's sharp eyes didn't miss the faint shake in his son's hand, nor the carefully covered emotions laced in his words. "And indulge this complete stranger in his wild notion that I should play Go with him? That I should have been playing Go all this time? I wouldn't, father. I had no reason to."

There was only one question left to ask. "Then why are you looking at his kifu?"

Akira didn't have an answer, and Touya Kouyou left his son to his thoughts.

Waya eyed him curiously when he brought his order, but Hikaru just kept on laying stones, so he walked away without comment.

It was an old game, one he had played in a formal match with Waya – a game he had won by a large margin. He ate slowly, and each time Waya came to check on him, he lingered longer and longer.

Finally, when the final stone was in place, he spoke. "White wins."

Hikaru nodded. "Yes, but it was a good game."

Waya hesitated. "Have… we met before?"

Hikaru cocked his head to the side. "I don't know, why do you ask?"

"Who did you play that game with?"

Hikaru shrugged airily. "I don't remember. It was a long time ago, you know."

Waya's face turned red. "You don't remember? You can play out the whole game, but you don't know who it was with? What kind of Go player are you?"

"A professional one," Hikaru retorted smugly, and it had the desired effect.

"You? A professional player? Who'd let a kid like you play professionally? You can't even remember your opponent? I don't know what you're playing at, kid, but it's certainly not Go!"

"Kid? Ha, I'd crush you like a bug."

Waya's eyes narrowed. "Want to bet on it?"

"Anytime."

"Fine. I get off work in an hour. Meet me at the Go Salon two blocks up the street."

"You can count on it."

Waya smirked. "When I beat you, I'll make you admit sushi is way better than ramen!"

"Oh? Well, if I win, I'll force you to eat ramen until you burst!"

Satisfied, Hikaru gathered up his things and left a sizable tip. He just needed Waya to show up. He was sure he'd be able to manage the rest.


	2. Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: The World Between Awake And Asleep

Title: The World Between Awake And Asleep

Author: hostilecrayon

Warnings: Direct quotes from the end of the manga. AU, in a weird way, lol

Disclaimer: Hikaru no Go was created by Hotta and Obata and distributed by Viz, Shogakuen and Shonen Jump.

Notes: Inspired by the final episode of Roseanne and totally dedicated to [info]bookshop. This is mostly your fault, you and your amazing Hikago posts, complete with manga scans and all. This is also dedicated to [info]svz_insanity for her helpfully being a soundboard… and completely changing the way this fic was going to be written. Also, damn my muse for not letting me end this when I had planned. Damn you muse, damn you!

Also, in a way, inspired by [info]aishuu, since reading through this makes me think of Brightly Burning. I'm not 100% sure I wrote this after reading it, but either way, it undeniably has its fair share of similarities. (But it's different, too.)

This part is a lot shorter than the first - but it's been a while since I updated this, and it has magically become my most popular piece with just one part! My muse is bouncing around, so I figure some update is better than no update. Thanks to [info]schnickledoogr2 for looking some of this over for me! My Hikago muse was feeling a little dusty and I had characterization doubts. XD

Onward! (If FF dot net puts in weird formatting, let me know - this chapter objected to being e-mailed without becoming a little... wonky.

 **Part II**

It was intense. From the moment the first stone was laid, Hikaru was practically holding his breath. As the game developed, he could feel the familiar flow of the stones. And yet, it was different from the Waya he remembered.

This Go was raw and unrefined. He imagined that if he had known Waya in his dream before he became an Insei, his go would look much like the Go he was seeing now.

He didn't know whether to be excited or disappointed when Waya resigned.

Waya let out a long sigh. "I guess you really are a pro. Even if your taste in food is terrible."

Hikaru laughed lightly. "You're not bad yourself. Have you ever thought of becoming a pro?"

Waya laughed outright. "Me? A pro? In my dreams, maybe." Hikaru smirked, thinking that was his line. "Isumi might be able to make it, though. I'm not really sure why he hasn't tried."

If Hikaru would have been drinking something, it would have ended up all over the go board. His sputtering was enough to make Waya look at him like he'd suddenly turned into an alien.

"You know Isumi?" Waya asked, a skeptical eyebrow arched.

Hikaru looked frantically around for something to say, but nothing came. Damn, but he wished Sai was here to help him out now. "I..." His eyes locked on a rack with faded volumes of Weekly Go, and he blurted, "I thought you said something else. I tutor someone with a similar name." It was a blatant lie - he didn't have any tutoring students just then - but in a way, it made him think about lying to everyone about Sai, and that made him feel a little bit better.

"Oh, I see." Waya looked down at the Go board again, his eyes unfocusing as he stared at it. "It's strange... your Go feel so familiar." He shook his head, his eyes moving to the door. "Isumi is a good friend of mine. We met in grade school, and we play together in our spare time - in fact," the bell above the door chimed, "here he is now. You won't have such an easy time beating him," Waya grinned, raising a hand and waving wildly at Isumi.

Isumi looked a lot like he did right after his trip to China, and Hikaru was having a hard time telling himself it never happened. His fateful game with Isumi, where he found Sai in his Go and realized he was allowed to play... the emotions ran thick through him even now. He couldn't bear to think of Isumi, or any of the others, as strangers. And yet... he had no choice.

"Hey Isumi! This guy is a pro! We just played a game, and I want you to play him and get him back for me, okay?"

Isumi's eyes widened, and for a minute, Hikaru's heart stopped. Isumi recognized him. "Shindou Hikaru, 3-dan, right? I've been following you in Weekly Go. Your record is quite impressive."

It was hard to hide how his body went numb. Of course Isumi had read about him in Weekly Go. No one else seemed to have any memory of him at all. Was he the only one cursed with the pain of knowing a world that didn't exist? "Thank you, Isumi-san. It's nice to meet you."

"You've really seen him in Weekly Go? You're still keeping up with it, huh?" There seemed to be some history about it between the two of them that Hikaru didn't know, but it seemed Isumi followed the Go world very closely.

Isumi set his bag down carefully, and took the seat across from Hikaru Waya was offering him. Waya plopped unceremoniously down in the next chair over. "Yes, he won an award for longest winning streak and best win/loss ratio last year." The same awards Touya had won in what Hikaru was beginning to think of as his other life.

Waya's eyes widened. "Really? That's unexpected."

"What do you mean it's unexpected?"

Isumi laughed lightly at the two of them, his fingers reaching of the goke. "May I trouble you for a game?"

"Not at all, Isumi-san. Please." People seemed so much the same, despite their different lives. It made Hikaru wonder if he could pull them into the world of the pros.

The world he was starting to think was where they belonged. Them, and most importantly, Touya Akira.

Hikaru could never believe that Touya belonged anywhere but in the world of the Pros.

Akira set the table as his mother, Akiko, diced carrots. The steady, rhythmic sound of the blade hitting the chopping block that was usually soothing grated on his nerves, and he sat, closing his eyes and taking a measured breath. He couldn't seem to be able to calm himself; not since the mysterious visit from Shindou Hikaru.

Touya Kouyou entered the kitchen, his scrutinizing gaze lingering on his son before he took his seat at the head of the table, the thin newspaper crinkling as it made contact with the empty plate in front of him. Akira looked up, barely acknowledging his father as his eyes took in the title of the paper his father was slowly unfolding and leafing through it at a leisurely pace.

Touya Kouyou folded a page back and, as Akiko came to serve the food while it was still hot, he set the paper aside, next to Akira. Food was completely forgotten then as Akira's attention turned to the open page of Weekly Go. Shindou Hikaru's kifu stared back at him, daring him to imagine just what thoughts went through the 3-dan's head as he placed each move.

Akira picked the paper up, his eyes narrowing as he read the small article next to the game played. It seemed 3-dan was no longer accurate. Shindou Hikaru was now a 4-dan, and it wasn't surprising with the kind of game he played. In a way, it was beautiful, but somehow, it felt like a cold strength. There was an emptiness in each move that Akira couldn't explain. How he could read the game like that was incomprehensible to him, but it felt like he'd been doing it forever. It was almost second nature to him, and yet, until Shindou's strange visit, he'd never even took the time to watch a full game.

He was at a complete loss on why he could understand how to read kifu.

"...Akira?" His mother's voice was wavering between amused and concerned, alerting him to the fact that he had been called more than once. When he looked up, he was startled to see that both of his parents were finished with their food. "Your food is getting cold." She cleared her and her husband's plates and excused herself, as if she sensed the sudden weight of the atmosphere. Kouyou's eyes pierced his son's, and the silence stretched into minutes.

Akira fidgeted lightly under his father's gaze, unsure of what to say. Then, "Would you like to play a game?" his father questioned, and Akira's eyes strayed to the newspaper again before shaking his head softly.

"I don't know what it means to play. I only know that there is something about this kifu that moves me." He looked away, apprehension plain on his face.

Kouyou weighed his son's words carefully. He had never before seen his son so flustered. Akira had always been a shy child, awkward but polite in a social setting. This, however, was something else entirely. Kouyou could see the passion warring with reason within his son, a feeling he remembered well as a young, aspiring business man. Something about this game was calling out to his son, and he wasn't sure whether to answer. "And what will you do?"

"...I don't know. I feel a familiarity with these games that I cannot explain." His fingers traced the lines in the printed board, pausing at the tengen. "How is it that I understand that this was the deciding move and that the weaker player just couldn't read deeply enough to see it for another twenty hands? Or that I have a feeling that this move was not a conventional one? This isn't possible, is it?"

"A soul does not forget its destiny, even if the brain does." Touya Kouyou stood to his full height, towering over his still seated child. "You may find what you are looking for at the Go Institute."

Alone in the kitchen, Akira pushed away his plate of food so he could spread out the paper properly. If he was going to go to the Go Institute, he'd have to glean what little about the Go world he could from this paper.

After all, he couldn't go unprepared.

Yashiro Kiyoharu was running late, so he didn't see the unique black-hair-with-blond-bangs hairstyle pass him on the other side of the street, but if he had, he surely would have recognized Shindou Hikaru, 4-dan from the sheer number of appearances of his face in Weekly Go. Yashiro had been following his kifu closely, and when he made the trip to Tokyo, he grinned all the way from Kansai.

If he ran into Shindou Hikaru, he would challenge him. And it would be a stunning mess of a game. And Yashiro planned to win.

But there wasn't much time for thinking about that particular aspiration, because he was late, and being late is a terrible way to kick off the Pro Exam.


	3. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: The World Between Awake and Asleep

Title: The World Between Awake and Asleep

Author: hostilecrayon

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Hikaru no Go was created by Hotta and Obata and is distributed by Viz, Shogakuen and Shonen Jump.

Notes: So, you thought I died, right? Or that somehow my memory of this story was erased or something? Well, actually, I got pregnant and then I had a baby. He's super adorable and now I can get back to updating as much as is possible with a baby. You all should thank Lacygrey for this update, because though it's been on my mind, she actually kicked me into gear. I owed her a story, and when asked for a prompt, she gave me the tall order of the next chapter of this.

Thank you to the many many reviewers of this story, you guys flatter me too much. It's very appreciated - I even got goosebumps a few times! Some of you mentioned poor formatting on ff. net in the first two chapters, and that was not me - the website destroyed my story and I missed it somehow. I'll fix it eventually. It removed my italics and my scene breaks - I had to fix the scene breaks for this chapter, too. This is a new problem and I don't know why it's doing that. Those of you who guessed about Sai - not telling! But I will say that one person somewhere had the right idea. Not saying where or who. I was also asked if this will be gen or romance - it's meant to be very canon-like, and as such, will probably not have overt romance in it. I guarantee nothing, but of course it will have a ridiculous amount of subtext, just like canon. Once it's finished, you may be able to persuade me to write romantic side stories, because I'm a sucker and a sap. But not until then!

If you have more questions or if I forgot something you already asked, let me know.

Dedicated to bookshop and svz_insanity, and many thanks go to schnickledoogr2 and verloren1983 (Ver-Bear!) for their epic help with random stuff.

 **Part III**

Ogata Seiji wiped at an invisible speck of dust from the glass before leaning over slightly to take in the sight of the fish as they floated idly from one side of the tank to the other. There was something about the way their fins flared out, their eyes unblinking as they moved effortlessly through the water that had always been calming to him. It wasn't something he could readily explain, but it was peaceful nonetheless.

He liked owning his own store. It was a relatively new experience for him; having been an employee for Touya Kouyou for so long, he'd quit when the man retired and he'd needed something to pay the rent. He could have stayed at the bank, but without Touya Kouyou there, it just wasn't the same. He hated the fact that he'd have to start all over with a new superior. It didn't help matters much that Morishita had taken over Touya-sensei's position and had always considered himself to be rivals of a sort with the other man, even if his former employer had never harbored such feelings for Morishita. He considered the Touya family to be friends of his, and it would have felt strange working for someone else.

So he had opened his own shop where he sold pet fish and other aquatic life along with the accessories needed to keep them alive and comfortable. His shop, Koi Ai, was relatively small, but in the short time he'd had it, it had gained momentum. He was known for keeping his shop impeccably clean and for having rare, exotic fish. It was definitely a much finer sight than old man Kuwabara's up the way, and with as much as the man taunted the young, fledging Ogata, Ogata was determined to put him out of business.

Unfortunately, the man was unbelievably resilient.

Lost in his thoughts of a hostile take-over, he did not hear the chime ring. He was only aware of another presence when a startled cry of, "O-Ogata-sensei!" rang out, and he turned dutifully towards the voice, curious who would address him as sensei in this place.

A teenager with a wild hairstyle and casual clothes was staring at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place. And while Ogata was used to people being intimidated by him, he was at a bit of a loss here, since he had never seen this boy before. Not in person, anyway.

He debated calling the boy by his name - he knew it well enough from his many appearances in Weekly Go - but he decided against it, jumping instead right to the question he wanted the answer to. "Have we met?" Not because the boy had called him by his name, or even because the boy had called him sensei, but because he was incredibly familiar somehow in a way that had nothing to do with his appearances in Weekly Go.

Shindou shook his head, almost as if he were coming out of a dream. "Uh… no, but… a friend referred me…" he stammered, and even if Ogata hadn't been the sharp man that he was, he would have known the boy was lying.

Ogata's eyes narrowed. "Is that so, Shindou?"

Shock registered across the boy's face, and Ogata smirked. Should he tell him he'd recognized him from Weekly Go? Perhaps he should drag it out just a little more. The boy was surprisingly fun to toy with, and easily ruffled.

"I heard that you met Akira," because he indeed had heard about that from Touya-sensei.

The boy looked like he might die of shock. Ogata smirked. It was clear he wasn't sure if he should say something else or turn around and run away.

When Shindou finally decided speak, it certainly wasn't anything Ogata would have been able to predict. "…Does the name 'Sai' mean anything to you?"

Ogata pressed his lips together, taking off his glasses to clean them, buying some time. Sai. The name resonated somewhere deep within him for reasons unknown.

"Ohohoho," came suddenly from the front of the door, sounding in time with the quiet door chime. "I see you managed to get a customer, Ogata-kun."

Ogata bowed politely to the much older man, but his eyes glinted dangerously. "What brings you out this way, Kuwabara?"

"I thought I'd see how the competition is doing. I know how much you'd love to get your hands on my store." He smiled, full of mirth. Ogata watched the old man as he took in the boy looking more and more like he was ready to bolt. "Oh? What is a young Go pro like yourself doing here, Shindou-kun? Is the reoccurring star of Weekly Go interested in fish so much that he'd frequent such a small shop?"

Ogata was careful not to show that he took offense to that, and instead said, "It's time for the new wave of business men, don't you think?"

"Kuwabara looked back to Ogata from the boy trying valiantly not to faint and said, "Oh, I don't think so. I'll be around for some time yet." His eyes moved back to the boy, some unexplainable knowledge in his gaze, and the boy could hold on no longer. He turned tail and fled, almost knocking over the old man in his haste.

Kuwabara watched him go with a grin. "Ohohoho… so energetic. Interesting boy, don't you think, Ogata-kun?"

He was loathe to agree with his competition, but, "Quite," was really the only thing he could say to that.

* * *

Hikaru took several deep breaths, leaning against a wall a good five blocks away from the two men that were trying to give him a heart attack. He'd simply been walking home from the Go salon where he'd played Waya and Isumi when he'd seen a familiar shock of hair through the window. He regretted investigating now - he should have known better than to be unprepared for Ogata no matter what universe he was in.

He'd almost been fooled into saying more than he should have. Ogata was sly, but since he hadn't been chased down the street with frantic questions shouted after him about Sai, he was pretty sure that this Ogata didn't know any more than anyone else he'd run into. Which was perfectly okay with Hikaru - to have Ogata be the only one who remembered would have been a terrible fate.

They simply knew him from Weekly Go. It made sense. That comment about Touya made him think that just like in his dream, Ogata simply knew the Touyas in this life, too.

Touya… he'd only had the one encounter with him, but he was certain it wouldn't be long before he'd see him again. He'd chase him down if he had to, but for the time being, he would wait. He knew Touya. It didn't matter if it had been a dream or a parallel universe or even another life. They were rivals forever. Things like when and where didn't matter.

His breathing slowed and he continued on his way.

* * *

Familiar. It was so familiar. There were things calling out to him in this place. Games he never played seemed just beyond his recollection. Whispers of conversations that never took place were playing in muted tones in his head. He could almost see the boy with the ridiculous bleached bangs getting on an elevator. Could see himself standing next to him.

Akira shook his head to clear his thoughts. It didn't make sense. He'd never been to the Go Institute before. As he glanced around, he did not see any familiar faces. But still, he could feel something just beneath the surface trying to break through, like a memory lost somehow, trying to return. It was completely overwhelming and yet utterly beyond his grasp.

"Can I help you?" broke through his reverie, and he turned toward the voice of the clerk automatically. She was pretty, but not overly so, and he wondered if even the clerks played Go.

He stood there for a minute, unsure of what to do. Should he ask for a tour? Somehow, he didn't think he'd need one. Should he find the customer game room and watch? He didn't think it would satisfy him. Another strange flash of that obnoxious blond hair and he knew what he wanted to ask. "Yes, can regular customers access the records room?"

He wasn't sure how he knew there was a records room. Perhaps it was just common sense that there would be one. She nodded and started to give directions, but her pretty smile faltered when he walked away before she had finished.

He didn't need directions. He knew exactly where to go.

* * *

Yashiro was elated. He'd played spectacularly, and the little red stamp on the exam card proved it. There were three of them now. It was a far cry from securing his place as a Go pro, but it was a good start. He was confident, if not just a little cocky, and he wandered off to explore the Tokyo Go Institute. If he became a pro, he planned to move out of his parents' home and find a cheap little apartment here. This would be his Go Institute then, so he may as well learn a little about it.

He checked out the Room of Profound Darkness and imagined what it must feel like to play in it. He watched the games in the customer game room for a bit. He would have checked out the records room, but there was already someone in it who seemed loathe to be disturbed. Then he passed by the room with the Ootei matches, stopped and doubled back.

Was that Shindou Hikaru in the corner?

Though he'd been stamping a win for himself, he seemed lost in thought and nearly plowed right into the waiting Yashiro.

"Excuse me," he mumbled before looking up. Shindou hesitated, looking at Yashiro warily.

Yashiro cut straight to the chase. "I'm Yashiro Kiyoharu and I'd like to challenge you to a game, Shindou Hikaru."

* * *

Akira had no idea how much time had passed. He knew it had to have been hours, but in the little room with no windows, his sense of time was off.

By the time he left the closet sized room that smelled of old parchment, he'd reviewed all of Shindou's recorded games and the games of several others. Professional games, both new and old, were committed to memory with an ease that couldn't be explained.

As he'd gone through page after page of kifu, he'd come across one player in particular that resonated with him. There was something about Honinbou Shuusaku that made him think of the boy who had so rudely demanded he play Go with him. Their styles weren't exactly the same, but from what Akira had seen of Shindou's kifu, there was more than just a passing influence.

He was ready to leave. He wasn't sure if he'd gotten what he'd come for, but he really didn't know why he'd come in the first place. He was walking down the nearly deserted hall to the exit when he saw two people playing Go in the customer's game room.

One had silver hair, and the other, with his back to him, had black hair with just a touch of golden fringe showing towards the front.

He should leave. He had not come to confront this boy. He had only wanted some answers to questions he'd never asked.

Somehow, he knew he wouldn't get them by walking away.

He found himself standing behind the boy he couldn't stop thinking about, behind Shindou, just out of his peripheral view without ever really having made the decision to do so. The game laid out before him was nearing its end, but even without having seen it, he knew it had been brilliant. It was, as far as flow went, a disaster. He doubted even a high level pro could have figured out how the game had progressed. It was messy and exciting and beautiful.

It took his breath away at the same time as it made him angry.

This game, with all its beauty, was not the game Shindou should be playing. None of the games he'd seen in black and white had been right for him, either. There was something very wrong with Shindou's Go.

"Shindou Hikaru."

The boy turned with a start, eyes wide. "Touya!"

"Shindou," Akira repeated darkly, "let's play."


	4. Part IV

Late because I have a baby and because I was insane and decided to participate in both Remix and Blind Go, as well as doing Help Japan – which has two prompts waiting for me to fill them, so I figured I’d better whip this out before anyone kills me. And of course there are also several other fics gnawing on me. Sigh.

I am not entirely happy with the first half of this, but alas, I couldn’t find a beta to poke it for me who was willing to be spoiled for the ending and also willing to take an ax to my sentence structure, so I guess it goes up as-is. I’m much happier with the second half, even if it is just a little bit cheesy as all hell. I just love playing with canon parallels, and thus, here you go.

Also, please don’t throw tomatoes at me?

 **Part IV**

The match was uneventful, as usual. It was an easy win, and disappointing, which was what he’d come to expect. Even in the games he lost, there wasn’t much to get excited about. He barely concealed his sigh when we went to stamp his win. Game after game in the professional world could never touch the games in his memory.

He’d rather play with Waya and Isumi, even as they were in this strange world he’d found himself in. He wasn’t sure how he would be able to get them to consider playing professionally, but he’d find a way. He had to. And then there was Touya…

He ran into something hard and warm, his mind automatically alerting him that it was a person, and he mumbled, “Excuse me,” even before looking up. He didn’t think he trusted his eyes when he did.

“I’m Yashiro Kiyoharu and I’d like to challenge you to a game, Shindou Hikaru.”

Hikaru blinked. “You certainly cut right to the chase, don’t you?”

Yashiro grinned. “I don’t hold back. Not in life, and definitely not in my Go.”

Hikaru found himself grinning, too. “I guess I can’t afford to hold back, either, now can I?”

It felt good to be the one approached. He’d been chasing after the people from his dream world for so long that he had begun to lose hope that any of them were walking their rightful paths as Go players. Hearing Yashiro talk excitedly about the Pro Exam as they approached the customer game room was just what he’d needed.

They took their seats. Yashiro won black, and Hikaru held his breath. It was all well and good to be excited about finding Yashiro walking the path to being a Pro, but all that really mattered was the Go he played.

The stones made the familiar clacking sound as Yashiro dug one out, flipping it up from his palm to hold it expertly between two fingers, reaching for the board. Hikaru felt electricity shoot through him in anticipation, and he couldn’t help but gasp when his move was made.

First hand Tengen.

Yashiro smirked mischievously. “Surprised?”

“Pleased,” Hikaru corrected, slapping a stone down at 5-5 with a sharp _pachi_.

The game progressed much like their first, with one very noticeable difference – Yashiro was stronger. Much stronger.

Hikaru’s smile then was a private one. He had three years of experience on top of all the games from his memory. He was stronger, too.

The game spiraled quickly towards yose. It was a brilliant mess and Hikaru was loathe for it to end. He could feel the excitement in each hand like nothing he’d felt since he woke up to find himself still a child. It was a better game than any he’d played in this life, and though it was clear that he would win, he wanted to keep playing this Go, this Go that filled him with life.

“Shindou Hikaru.”

He’d know that voice anywhere. He turned, taking in the sight of his rival, appearing out of nowhere just as he always had.

“Shindou, let’s play.” There was a strange darkness in his voice; a faint shake vibrating through his body. He seemed almost angry.

“Touya!” And just like that, Yashiro and the lively Go he played were forgotten. A million things went through Hikaru’s head in an instant. What was he doing here? Why now? Did he remember, or was it fate that connected them this way? But what he actually said was, “Finally.”

Touya turned dark eyes past Hikaru to Yashiro, but his words were not for the silver-haired boy. “I’ll wait.”

Hikaru’s eyes turned back to the board, but the game he didn’t want to end suddenly seemed like it would take an eternity to play.

Yashiro must have sensed something, because he just shook his head. “I was about to resign, anyway.”

“It was a great game. Did you want to go over it?” Hikaru felt kind of bad, but he really hoped he didn’t. His eyes drifted to Touya, who was staring at the board with a concentration Hikaru knew all too well.

“We don’t need to go over it as long as you’re willing to give me a rematch.”

“Anytime,” Hikaru said, and meant it. But right now, he had another game on his mind.

He turned to Touya. “I’ve waited a long time for this,” he intoned solemnly. “It’s finally time to begin.”

\---

Akira wasted no time taking the seat Yashiro vacated, confused and yet still somehow excited about this game. He could feel the adrenaline running through him and knew that it was fear of what he might find here than caused it. His opponent, too, was visibly shaken; his goke lid clattering loudly as he set it down.

He’d been waiting for this, he’d said. Akira couldn’t fathom why, or for what reason, but there was something at risk here, rolling just beneath the surface. It felt like this might be the most important thing he ever did in his life, but that didn’t make sense. He didn’t even know this boy.

They performed a nigiri to decide who would go first – something Akira had not known how to do until he was doing it, and they began, no further words passing between them. Shindou 4-dan placed his first stone, hoshi, his mind supplied, and his heart thudded in his chest. When his fingers dug into his goke, it did not feel like the first time.

He drew out a stone, holding it expertly between two fingers… and drew a blank. He could understand the game, he could go through the motions, but no moves of his own came to him. He stared at the board for a long time, hand hovering above it, but it wasn’t until his opponent opened his mouth to speak that he placed the stone – not where his instinct had told him, but in a place he had read in a kifu.

The game progressed in this fashion for a while, Shindou 4-dan playing stones, Akira responding in places he had seen used in the numerous kifu he had studied. As the game entered chuuban, his opponent became more forceful, his stones hitting the board harshly and increasingly rapidly.

Before they had even approached yose, Shindou 4-dan stood abruptly, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Just what are you playing at, Touya?”

Akira stared back in shock. “What?”

Shindou’s hands hit the table hard, making the stones jump and wobble on the board. “This is not your Go.”

It was not a question.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Akira retorted, but he could feel a lump forming in his throat at seeing the boy so obviously upset with him.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Did you think you could get away with playing old games against me?” Shindou was quivering, his posture like a bow strung too tightly, about to snap.

“How would you know what my Go is like?” Akira cried, needing to understand; unsure if he wanted to know.

There was silence, and then, in a quiet, wavering voice, “I know you better than anyone.”

There was something then; the briefest of moments where he felt as if he’d heard that line before, only it was him who had said it. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, and as Akira had no idea what to do, he ran.

\---

The boy had clearly been nothing special. Any amateur could copy moves off of kifu – it did not take much skill. And yet, something about this boy had captured Shindou Hikaru’s attention. It was obvious enough to Yashiro as each move became more agitated, but even if he hadn’t noticed it, that scene in which he was so obviously forgotten about rose unfathomable questions that Yashiro couldn’t even begin to answer.

Who was this Touya who was so easily about to rattle the brilliantly talented Shindou? The boy had no idea who he was playing against to try such ridiculous tactics on him, and yet, something had made the rising young pro expect more. Even after the boy had fled, Shindou stared unseeing at the aborted game, his rage barely concealed behind wet eyes.

He tried to say something to him, but Shindou either did not hear him or was just plain ignoring him. Either way, he thought it might be time to make his exit.

He would have to make sure to bump into Shindou again for another game, and he’d keep that Touya kid in the back of his mind, just in case. If he had the favor of Shindou Hikaru, there had to be something there, something more than a poorly played game of Go.

\---

Days went by, blurring together in a haze of professional games played with a distant aloofness. He couldn’t believe what had happened; couldn’t tear his mind away from that day when Touya had played what he was loathe to even call a game. It had been a mimic; a fake game unsuitable for either of them. He had thought that at least with Touya, everything would be as it should.

He thought about Sai, and about the wisdom he could sometimes impart about Go, but there was nothing that applied here. Thinking of Sai hurt almost as much as this twisted version of Touya, so he derailed his thoughts by meeting with Waya and Isumi as much as possible.

In his professional games, he coldly cut down his opponents in his rage, but with Waya and Isumi, he could find a modicum of enjoyment, watching their Go develop into what it should be. This year, the pro exams were already in motion, but he felt he could have them ready before next summer approached. He’d have to convince them to take it, but he’d worry about that when the time came.

He needed them in the professional world of Go with him, his Go needed them, but he wasn’t sure if it would be enough. Yashiro had improved, and playing him with his newfound strength had been inspiring, but it wasn’t the same. He could play brilliant games with Yashiro, but he could never be his rival. There was something missing. It was frustrating to know what that was and yet be completely unable to do anything about it.

Shindou had kifu of every game he had ever played in his dream. Out of determination, or perhaps desperation, he took out a fresh sheet of paper and copied down the game he had played with Touya after chasing him for so long. He had his kifu books next to him, but he found he did not need to look – this game would be burned into his memory until the day he died.

Across the top, he scrawled ‘Two years and four months’. Touya had waited that long for him. It was only fair that he allow him the same. If he could not make it to his world in that time, he never would.

Hikaru made out the envelope carefully, and with a tremor in his hand, he dropped it into the mailbox.

 _Your move, Touya._


End file.
